I Was a Third Grade Zombie
by Dead Composer
Summary: Buster turns into a zombie after selling his soul for a new toy.
1. Buster Meets Mr Fillmore

One day as Arthur and Buster were browsing at a locally owned toy store called Toys-4-U, they heard a threatening mechanical voice from the action figure section. "Puny earthlings!" it bellowed. "Welcome your new overlords! Resistance is useless!"  
  
Intrigued, the two boys hurried toward the origin of the voice. Between the Bionic Bunny figures and the Speak-and-Smell games stood a large display filled with moving, talking, twelve-inch-high alien creatures. Next to each creature was a box with the words "Mezmo the Talking Alien" emblazoned in large yellow letters.  
  
"Cooool," marveled Buster.  
  
As if following his voice or movements, all the alien toys turned toward Buster and started to flash red laser beams on their oversized green foreheads. "Your primitive human brains cannot withstand my hypno-ray!" they intoned in unison. "You will do as I command!"  
  
"I wish I had a hypno-ray," said Arthur. "I'd use it on D.W., and make her..."  
  
But Buster seemed oblivious to him. "Must...buy...toy," the rabbit boy droned, slowly stretching out his hands.  
  
"Oh, cut it out," said Arthur, elbowing him.  
  
"Sales...resistance...weakening," Buster mumbled.  
  
"They're $29.95 a pop." Arthur gestured toward the price tag underneath one of the Mezmo units.  
  
Buster shook his head vigorously. "Hypno-ray...wearing...off. Free...will... returning."  
  
"All humans will become my slaves!" roared the alien toys, their armored chests swiveling back and forth. "Your primitive weapons cannot save you!"  
  
Buster made a despondent face. "Oh, I wish I could afford a Mezmo," he lamented. "It's the coolest toy ever."  
  
"Well, don't try to steal one," Arthur warned him. "We don't want to go through another mess like the one with the cyber toy."  
  
"They're a little too expensive, if you ask me," came a man's voice. Arthur and Buster turned to find a short, graying goat man dressed in a loud red suit. "I'm Mr. Fillmore," the man introduced himself. "I'm the owner of the store."  
  
"I'd have to save up my allowance for twenty years to buy a Mezmo," groaned Buster.  
  
"Maybe not," Mr. Fillmore reassured him. "You look like a strong, healthy little boy. If you do odd jobs around the neighborhood, you can make enough money in no time."  
  
Buster thought for a moment, then his face lit up. "I'll do it!"  
  
For the rest of the week, Buster became a one-rabbit flurry of activity every day after school. He mowed the Molinas' lawn, helped Mrs. Tibble to clean out her cellar, put another layer of paint on Binky's house, trimmed Fern's hedge, and fed insects to Mrs. Armstrong's carnivorous plants.  
  
The money started to pour in. Six dollars...seven dollars...eight dollars...  
  
But it wasn't enough, and Buster was getting tired. Not only were his muscles sore, but he had missed new episodes of all his favorite cartoons.  
  
He gazed dreamily and sadly at the Mezmo toys in the display, occasionally walking back and forth to allow the aliens to follow him with their motion sensors. "I am not your toy," they gloated. "You are mine! Muwahahaha!"  
  
Mr. Fillmore, still wearing his garish red suit, found the boy moping in the back of his store. "I remember you," he said with a kindly tone. "Have you raised the necessary funds yet?"  
  
Buster's face fell. "All I have is twelve dollars. I've been working all week. I'll never get enough."  
  
"Of course you will," Mr. Fillmore encouraged him. "Just work another week and a half, and you'll have thirty dollars."  
  
"But I'm tired of working," Buster groused. "I'm tired of waiting. I want a Mezmo now!"  
  
Then a wicked glint appeared in Mr. Fillmore's eyes. He started to wring his hands greedily.  
  
"I'll make you a deal," he said sinisterly. "I'll give you a Mezmo for twelve dollars, if you'll throw in one other thing."  
  
"What's that?" asked Buster hopefully.  
  
The light from the setting sun cast a weird glow around Mr. Fillmore's horns.  
  
"Your soul!"  
  
TBC 


	2. Buster Wakes Up Dead

Later that evening, Arthur hurried over to Buster's condo, lured by the promise of an exciting surprise. After Bitzi welcomed him inside, he found Buster squatted on the living room floor, programming his new alien toy with marching and speaking instructions. "Cool!" he exclaimed. "You got a Mezmo. But I thought you didn't have the money yet."  
  
"I didn't," replied Buster as Arthur sat down on the floor in front of him. "Mr. Fillmore cut me a deal. He's a really nice guy."  
  
The rabbit boy then pushed a button on the back of the toy, and it started to march along the carpet, issuing threats. "You are now subjects of the Mezmar Empire! Resist and you shall be destroyed!"  
  
"Wow, that's really amazing," marveled Arthur. "And you didn't have to steal this one." After watching the robot wander away, he examined his friend's face more carefully. "You don't look so well, Buster."  
  
"I feel fine," said Buster, jumping to his feet to retrieve his Mezmo toy.  
  
"I took his temperature," said Bitzi, who had settled in front of the TV news. "It's 96 degrees. He doesn't have a fever."  
  
While Buster chased his toy around the kitchen, he heard a knock at the door, and answered it. "Hey, Fern. Come in."  
  
The poodle girl beamed with delight when she stepped into the condo and saw the robot lurching about. "Oh, it's a Mezmo!" she gushed. "I've always wanted one of those." She started to race with Buster to see which of them could catch up with the walking toy first.  
  
Arthur, who had followed Buster into the kitchen, watched incredulously as Fern snatched the Mezmo toy off the floor and held it up as if it were an adorable kitten. "Fern? You..." he started to say.  
  
"Just because I'm a girl doesn't mean I can't like robot toys," Fern informed him, then turned back to Buster. "Will you show me how to program him?"  
  
"Sure." Buster grinned.  
  
"You look pale," Fern remarked. "I mean, you're always pale because you're a white rabbit, but you look paler than usual."  
  
"I'm fine," Buster insisted. He opened up a plastic panel in Mezmo's back and started to describe the controls to Fern. "These switches tell Mezmo which way to turn and how long to keep going in one direction. These dials tell him what to say..."  
  
Arthur and Fern stayed for half an hour, enjoying the new toy with Buster. Soon the rabbit boy's bedtime arrived, and Bitzi inspected him while he stood in his bedroom, wearing his striped pajamas.  
  
"You look a little paler than before," she observed. "If you feel sick during the night, don't be afraid to wake me up."  
  
"I'll be fine, Mom," said Buster, climbing into his bed. Bitzi tucked him in and gave him a goodnight kiss, and soon he was snoring and dreaming.  
  
Or rather, having nightmares.  
  
While he could usually remember his nightmares in vivid detail (especially his two worst ever, one where he was stranded in the desert with nothing to eat and another where he had to spend the day at school handcuffed to Sue Ellen), this particular nightmare was nothing but psychedelic colors and confused emotions.  
  
After what seemed like several hours of mental torture, Buster sat upright and screamed. Looking around anxiously, he found to his relief that he was back in his bedroom, fast awake and safe from the night terrors.  
  
But something was wrong. Normally his heart beat wildly after he came out of such a traumatic dream. On this occasion, it felt as if his heart wasn't beating at all.  
  
Vaguely recalling something Mr. Ratburn had said about a non-beating heart being a signal of imminent mortal peril, Buster did the smartest thing he could think of--he checked his own pulse. Placing his right fingers over his left wrist, he felt...nothing. Nothing except for an uncharacteristic coldness of the skin and flesh.  
  
And it got worse. He suddenly realized that he wasn't breathing.  
  
He sucked in a deep breath and slowly exhaled. It didn't take him long to figure out that he could breathe if he willed himself to, but no longer felt the compulsion to breathe unconsciously.  
  
No heartbeat...no breathing...cold skin...  
  
He lowered himself from the bed, and was amazed that the hardwood floor, usually cold at this time of year, felt warm against his bare feet. Taking a few steps, he switched on the light, looked into the dresser mirror...and gasped in horror.  
  
His face was ghastly white, except for dark circles surrounding his eyes. His ears were drooped and crumpled in a grotesque manner. What little hair he had was almost completely gone, and what remained appeared as stiff as needles.  
  
While Buster struggled to think of an explanation for his sudden change, the door to his bedroom opened and his mother poked her head in, having heard his scream. She screamed as well when she beheld her son's wraith-like visage.  
  
"Mom, can you take my temperature again?" Buster asked her earnestly. "I think I'm dead."  
  
TBC 


	3. A Zombie in the Classroom

"Mrs. Baxter, the only thing I can say with any certainly is that your son won't die," said Dr. Barrett, a parrot man. "Of course, that's because he's already dead."  
  
Bitzi stared at the doctor unbelievingly. Buster, his shirtless chest as starch-white as his face and ears, sat on the edge of the examination table, intrigued by the seemingly grim diagnosis. "Cool," he mused. "I'm a zombie."  
  
"His vital functions have ceased," Dr. Barrett continued to explain. "All the blood has disappeared from his veins. I can only guess that some supernatural force is animating his body and preventing it from decomposing."  
  
Bizi shook her head. "There must be a scientific explanation, Doctor. There must be something you can do to help him."  
  
"This is beyond anything I've ever encountered," said Dr. Barrett. "I'm going to call in some specialists from the Mayo Clinic to have a look at him."  
  
"Mmmm...mayo," said Buster thoughtfully.  
  
"What do I do in the meantime?" asked Bitzi, her voice quivering.  
  
"First of all, keep him warm," the doctor recommended. "Without any internally generated body heat, he's at risk of hypothermia. Second, his digestive system isn't functioning, so don't let him eat or drink anything."  
  
"But I'll starve to death!" cried the alarmed Buster.  
  
Dr. Barret smiled at Buster. "No, you won't. Like I said before, you're dead already."  
  
"But I have to eat something," Buster insisted. "Even the zombies in the movies eat brains."  
  
"You're not a zombie," the doctor told him. "Zombies aren't real. So don't get any ideas, okay?"  
  
Buster's face fell. "Come to think of it," he said glumly, "I'm not even hungry or thirsty."  
  
"What about school?" Bitzi asked the doctor.  
  
"His mental faculties seem to be intact," replied Dr. Barrett, "and his condition isn't contagious, as far as I can tell."  
  
Buster's skeletal face lit up. "I wanna go to school, Mom. I want to show all my friends."  
  
"I see no reason why he shouldn't go," said the doctor.  
  
----  
  
"See? No pulse," gloated Buster as Arthur pressed two fingers to his clammy wrist. "I'm a living dead bunny."  
  
Arthur pulled his hand away and shook his head in astonishment. "That is so weird. How did it happen?"  
  
"I don't know," replied Buster, who seemed gleeful about his ignorance. In spite of the fact that it was a warm day, he was wearing a winter coat and hat.  
  
"Hey, wait a minute," said Binky, who stood next to Arthur. "I've seen movies about zombies who run people down and suck out their brains."  
  
"Well, you don't have much to worry about," quipped Francine.  
  
But Binky's anxiety only increased. "Uh, that's cool, Buster, but I gotta go." As he hastened away, Muffy and Brain passed by on their way to Mr. Ratburn's classroom.  
  
"Omigosh, look at Buster!" Muffy blurted out. "He looks like he hasn't eaten in weeks!"  
  
"Or hasn't eaten anything but junk food for weeks," Brain added. He and Muffy joined Arthur and Francine in gaping at Buster's pale, sunken face.  
  
"You'd better be careful, Brain," Francine warned the boy. "Buster's a zombie now. If he gets hungry, you're the first one he'll come after."  
  
"I don't eat brains," insisted the annoyed Buster.  
  
"If Buster is truly a zombie," said Brain, touching the rabbit boy's wrist to obtain his own confirmation, "then someone must have put a voodoo curse on him. Voodoo has its origins in Haiti and is commonly practiced on the Caribbean islands."  
  
"Interesting," said Muffy suspiciously. "And who do we know who's been to the Caribbean islands?" Arthur, Francine, and Brain all narrowed their eyes at her. "And, uh, was old enough to remember it," she continued sheepishly.  
  
At that moment Sue Ellen strolled up and joined the group. "Hey, guys. What's wrong with Buster?"  
  
"He's a zombie," Arthur informed her.  
  
"I didn't do it," claimed Sue Ellen, and then she walked away.  
  
Francine watched her disappear behind a corner. "Why would she want to turn Buster into a zombie?" she wondered aloud.  
  
"Maybe she's still sore at him for thinking she was an alien," Muffy theorized.  
  
"Let's not jump to conclusions," said Brain.  
  
"But she's been all over the world," Muffy insisted. "I'll bet she picked up all kinds of magical stuff."  
  
"Hold it, Muffy," Arthur chimed in. "Don't we know someone else who collects magical stuff?"  
  
Suddenly Prunella walked up to the group. "Hey, guys. What's wrong with Buster?"  
  
"He's a zombie," Arthur answered.  
  
"I didn't do it," claimed Prunella, and then she walked away.  
  
"It's scary how everything is timed so well around here," Brain remarked.  
  
"You've got to be kidding me," Francine protested. "Prunella's just a two-bit fortune-teller. She can't turn people into zombies."  
  
"Maybe she can't," Muffy responded, "but what about her sister?"  
  
"Hey, who cares who did it?" Buster interjected. "Being a zombie is cool."  
  
----  
  
A short time later, the first period began in Mr. Ratburn's classroom. The normal assignment of desks had been abandoned, as Binky, Fern, George, Jenna, and all the students who didn't talk much took seats as far away from Buster as they could manage. Brain and Muffy took seats on opposite sides of the zombie rabbit boy, seemingly unconcerned about his transformation.  
  
"You need new clothes to go with your new look," Muffy half-whispered to Buster. "I'm thinking something gothic with holes in it."  
  
"Before we get started," said Mr. Ratburn to the class, "perhaps you can explain to me why half of you are not sitting at your normal desks."  
  
An uncomfortable silence filled the room.  
  
George raised his hand timidly. "Uh, in case you haven't noticed, Mr. Ratburn, Buster's been turned into a zombie."  
  
"I have noticed that, George," replied Ratburn, glancing briefly at Buster. "So why is that a problem?"  
  
"Haven't you seen any zombie movies?" Binky interrupted. "If a zombie catches you, it sucks out your brains, and then you turn into a zombie."  
  
"You can't believe everything you see in movies," Ratburn informed him.  
  
Jenna grinned. "Hey, I know. You gave him too much homework, and he spent all night finishing it, and now he's a zombie." The other kids chuckled.  
  
"Up until this morning I didn't believe in zombies," said Fern nervously. "But now there's a zombie in our classroom. What do we know about him? What if he really can turn the rest of us into zombies?"  
  
Muffy, suddenly looking frightened, climbed out of her seat and walked over to a desk at the back of the room without looking at Buster.  
  
A worried look appeared on Buster's undead face. "Fern's right," he said to Mr. Ratburn. "I've never been a zombie before. I don't know what'll happen to me. Maybe I'll flip out in the middle of class and start biting people and turning them into zombies. Maybe I should go home."  
  
"Unless you have a note from your mother," Ratburn told him, "you're staying right where you are."  
  
As the teacher started his lecture, the other kids looked warily at Buster. The zombie boy didn't feel as if he wanted to hurt any of his friends, but could he still trust himself not to?  
  
TBC 


	4. Rattles vs the Zombie

As the kids left the classroom at the end of the period, everyone except for Arthur, Francine, Sue Ellen, and Brain made a wide berth around Zombie Buster as if he had the plague.  
  
The undead rabbit boy sighed as his four friends tried to console him. "They think I'll eat their brains and turn them into zombies," he lamented. "I guess I can't blame them."  
  
"But that's only in the movies," Sue Ellen pointed out. "According to voodoo beliefs, you have to put a curse on someone to turn them into a zombie. It's not you they should be afraid of, it's whoever did this to you."  
  
"And we're gonna find out who that is," said Brain confidently.  
  
"And we'd better hurry," Francine added. "We don't know how many years Buster can go without food."  
  
Buster groaned pathetically.  
  
Morning recess came along, and Buster's four friends continued to provide him with their company while the other kids superstitiously avoided him.  
  
"It's a good thing you're not decomposing," Arthur remarked as he and the others wandered about the playground with Zombie Buster. "Otherwise you'd stink really bad right now."  
  
Then they stopped all at once. Several yards ahead, they beheld a terrifying sight--Rattles the bully was intimidating a second-grade poodle boy into turning over his candy bar. "Uh, let's not go that way," Francine recommended.  
  
"Why not?" Arthur responded. "Sue Ellen can beat him up."  
  
"Let's just tell the principal," Sue Ellen suggested.  
  
"Sounds good to me." Brain led the way as the others followed...  
  
...except for one.  
  
"Hey, where's Buster?" wondered Francine.  
  
She, Arthur, Sue Ellen, and Brain turned around. To their horror, they saw Zombie Buster standing boldly between Rattles and his young victim.  
  
"I've put up with your bullying for too long," said Buster defiantly. "Now that I'm a zombie, I'm gonna put a stop to it."  
  
"Oh, that's a really scary mask," snarled Rattles as the little poodle boy ran away crying. "By the time I finish with you, your face will really look like that."  
  
"Do your worst," Buster challenged him. "You can't hurt someone who's already dead."  
  
"Buster, stop!" cried Sue Ellen as she raced toward the scene with Brain, Francine, and Arthur.  
  
Alas, it was too late.  
  
Rattles lashed out with a well-aimed right hook, striking Buster in the left eye. The rabbit boy fell back and stumbled, but quickly recovered his footing. Assuming a defensive posture once again, he boasted, "I didn't feel a thing."  
  
"Feel this!" bellowed Rattles, launching his left fist into Buster's nose. Once again the zombie boy recoiled from the impact, but within moments was on his feet again, none the worse for wear. His four friends stood by helplessly, fearing dire physical harm if they intervened.  
  
Rattles' consternation grew as he hurled punch after punch at Buster's face, only to watch his tireless opponent confront him again and again, grinning condescendingly.  
  
Then suddenly, Buster's grin revealed fewer teeth than before.  
  
"That's it!" roared Sue Ellen. When Rattles' arm retracted from its latest punch, she grabbed it and twisted it behind his back in a tae kwon do hold. The bigger boy struggled to break her grasp for a few seconds, then wised up and flung himself on his back, knocking Sue Ellen to the ground and crushing the wind out of her. He leaped to his feet, angrier than ever and determined to wipe the increasingly toothless smile from Zombie Buster's face.  
  
Sue Ellen lay in the dirt, bruised and gasping, her pride injured more than anything else. While Arthur and Francine helped her to stand, Brain watched the altercation motionlessly, wondering if Buster would ever stop acting the role of punching bag and take the offensive.  
  
Then, as Rattles drew back to deliver another punch, Buster glanced over at Brain...and had an idea.  
  
Raising his arms and widening his eyes, he let loose with a terrifying shriek:  
  
"BRAINS!"  
  
Rattles' fist slowly dropped to his side. Terror enveloped his face.  
  
"BRAAAAAIIIIINSSSSS!!!"  
  
Buster lurched forward, stretching his pale hands toward the frightened Rattles. The bully turned and fled, screaming bloody murder.  
  
Once Rattles had disappeared behind a corner of the school, Buster lowered his arms and started to laugh, a chilling zombie laugh. His mirth ceased when Francine grabbed him by the shoulders and gave him a scowl angry enough to split hydrogen atoms.  
  
"You idiot!" she shouted. "Look at you! You've lost half your teeth! Rattles could've knocked your head off and you wouldn't have felt it!"  
  
"What do I need teef for?" lisped Zombie Buster. "I can't eat."  
  
"That's not the point," Francine continued, more calmly than before. "If you can't feel pain, then you have to be extra careful."  
  
"The sensation of pain is essential to the survival of any species," said Brain academically. "Without it, you could be seriously injured, maybe even permanently disabled, and you wouldn't realize it until it's too late."  
  
"Let me demonstrate by pulling off your ears," offered Francine, reaching up and wrapping her fingers around Buster's ears.  
  
"No!" cried Buster with alarm.  
  
"What's the matter?" Francine taunted him. "Are you afraid it'll hurt?"  
  
"Okay, okay," said Buster meekly. "I get your point."  
  
Francine let go of Buster's ears, and they headed off to the classroom along with Sue Ellen, Arthur, and Brain.  
  
----  
  
"I'm thorry, Mom," said Zombie Buster to his mother when he returned home accompanied by Arthur and Francine. "I got in a fight at thchool. I shouldn't have done it, but I thought I was indethtructible."  
  
Bitzi shook her head in disgust at the sight of Buster's damaged smile. "This will cost a fortune at the dentist," she lamented. "Did you recover all the missing teeth?"  
  
"Yeah, Mom," replied Buster, showing his mother a small plastic bag he had obtained from the school cafeteria.  
  
As Bitzi snatched up the tooth-filled bag and went to the phone to make an emergency call to the dentist, Buster led Arthur and Francine to the living room and sat on the couch with them. "Let'th watch a little Bionic Bunny," he proposed, grabbing the remote control and switching on the TV. "Now that I'm a thombie I don't need thleep, tho I can watch TV all night if I want."  
  
"Don't let Mr. Ratburn hear that," Arthur warned him. "He'll give you more homework."  
  
"Great Scott!" exclaimed Bionic Bunny as he gazed upon a warehouse floor covered with pterodactyl eggs, many of which were hatching. "This looks like the work of my nemesis...Dr. Fowl!"  
  
"I've seen this one," said Arthur wearily. "Let's watch something else, Buster. Buster?"  
  
Turning his head, Arthur saw that his friend was staring single-mindedly at the TV screen. He didn't move or change his expression.  
  
"Buster? Hello?" Arthur waved a hand in front of the zombie boy's face, but he did not respond.  
  
Suddenly Buster pushed himself off of the couch and walked robotically out of the living room. "Where are you going?" Francine called after him, but he paid no heed to her voice or any of his surroundings. Within seconds, he had exited the condo and closed the door behind him.  
  
"Come on, Francine," said Arthur, hastily flinging himself off the couch. "We'd better follow him."  
  
TBC 


	5. Bitzi vs Mr Fillmore

Zombie Buster looked neither to the right nor the left as he trudged mindlessly along the sidewalk, toward a destination known only to himself.  
  
About a block behind him, Bitzi slowly tailed him in her Volkswagen, with Arthur and Francine belted into the back seat.  
  
"Maybe now we'll find out who put the zombie curse on him," said Francine hopefully.  
  
The tedious pursuit went on for about an hour. Driver after driver came up behind Bitzi's slow-moving vehicle, honked rudely, and passed on the left.  
  
"Doesn't he ever get tired?" wondered Arthur. They had reached the center of town, and Buster still marched on ahead of them, his pace unflagging.  
  
A few minutes later, Bitzi watched as her son made a right turn into a store. She recognized it as Toys-4-U, where she and Buster had often visited to shop for playthings.  
  
"He went into the toy store," Arthur noted. "Hmm. He started turning into a zombie right after he bought that robot toy."  
  
"I'll drop the two of you off here," said Bitzi. "Watch the store and make sure he doesn't leave."  
  
She stopped in the busy street to let Arthur and Francine jump out of the car and take up positions on the sidewalk. A few minutes passed, and Buster didn't appear. Then Bitzi, who had found a parking space, joined the pair and led them into the Toys-4-U store.  
  
Upon entering, they were greeted by the garishly dressed goat man who Arthur recognized as Mr. Fillmore, the shop's proprietor. "How can I help you?" he asked with a silky voice.  
  
"We, uh, just want to browse," said Bitzi evasively.  
  
"As you wish," answered the goat man in the red suit.  
  
Bitzi and the two kids started down one of the toy-strewn aisles. "That guy's creepy," Francine remarked.  
  
They wandered to the back of the store, where Arthur noticed that only a handful of Mezmo toys remained in the display he had seen earlier. They stood motionlessly, as if their batteries had run down.  
  
There were three doors in the back wall of the Toys-4-U shop. One led to the men's room. One led to the women's room. The third bore a sign saying, EMPLOYEES ONLY.  
  
Bitzi motioned for Arthur to look in the men's room, and then, to be thorough, gestured for Francine to check the women's room. When the two kids came back Buster-less, the rabbit woman came to the conclusion that Buster could have gone in only one direction...  
  
"May I help you find anything?" asked Mr. Fillmore, who had walked up to them from behind.  
  
"Er, yes, you can," replied Bitzi, suspecting that the goat man would most likely keep his eyes trained on them. "I'm looking for my son. Eight years old. Long ears. I saw him come into your store."  
  
"Hmm," mumbled Fillmore, scratching his tiny beard. "I believe I saw a boy fitting that description a minute or two ago. He came in, looked around a bit, and left. He had a rather gaunt appearance."  
  
Bitzi glanced down at Arthur and Francine, who shook their heads.  
  
She winked playfully at them.  
  
Turning back to Mr. Fillmore, she reached up and picked a deck of magic cards from the shelf. "I think he would love these," she said idly, making sure to position her body between Fillmore's beady eyes and her two young companions. "He's always trying to figure out the magic tricks they do on TV."  
  
As Bitzi distracted the store owner, Arthur and Francine tiptoed through the EMPLOYEES ONLY door and started to quietly close it behind them.  
  
But Fillmore was too observant...  
  
"Stop!" he cried out. "Don't go in there!" Discourteously pushing Bitzi aside, he rushed toward the door, shoved it open, and marched through. Frightened for the children, Bitzi ran through the doorway after him.  
  
Arthur and Francine found themselves in a stock room with shelves full of crates and toy boxes. Attached to the ceiling were several flourescent lights, about half of which were buzzing and blinking.  
  
In the middle of it all was a shocking sight. Buster, his expression devoid of emotion, was on his knees, scrubbing the dingy stone floor with a sponge in his hand, a pail of soapy water sitting next to him.  
  
"Buster!" exclaimed Francine. "What are you doing?" The rabbit boy didn't look up or answer.  
  
"He's...he's working," stammered the unbelieving Arthur.  
  
Before they could reflect any further on the bizarre development, a pair of strong hands grabbed them and turned them around. The stern face of Mr. Fillmore glared at them, the points of his horns looking sharp and deadly in the flickering light of the stock room. "You are not supposed to be in here," he growled threateningly.  
  
Then it was Fillmore's turn to be forcibly flipped around. By yanking on one of his horns, Bitzi brought the goat man's face level with her own. "What have you done to my son?" she demanded angrily.  
  
The shop owner's lips spread into a malicious smile. Bitzi, expecting an answer that wouldn't please her, released her grip on his horn.  
  
"So you're the boy's mother," he said with devilish glee. Behind him, Arthur and Francine tried to arouse Buster from his dutiful trance, but the zombie boy only scrubbed obliviously.  
  
"That's right, I am," Bitzi replied firmly. "And whatever you did to him, I want you to undo it, now."  
  
"It's not that simple, Bitzi Lynn Baxter," said Fillmore, leading Bitzi to wonder how the man she hardly knew could recite her full name. "You see, Buster and I made a bargain. He got the toy he wanted, and I got his soul."  
  
"His soul?" Bitzi's eyes bulged with astonishment. "What do you mean?"  
  
"Oh, I see," replied Fillmore, as if reading Bitzi's thoughts. "You don't believe in an afterlife. Very well, let me put it another way. The soul is the motive force, the anima, the 'je ne sais quoi' that separates a human being from a mere puppet on a string."  
  
"I don't care how you define it," said Bitzi with outrage in her voice. "Just give it back to him. You have no right to take my son's free will away and make him your slave." Arthur and Francine, having failed to release Buster from his spell, hurried to Bitzi's side as if to lend her support against the sinister goat man's arguments.  
  
"When I last checked," Fillmore continued, "the laws of the state and nation said nothing about trafficking in souls. Therefore I have the right, by default, to take possession of any soul that is offered to me freely, and to dispose of it as I see fit."  
  
"But I never taught him about souls!" exclaimed the increasingly emotional Bitzi. "He didn't know what he was giving up!"  
  
"An unfortunate oversight on your part," said Fillmore coldly.  
  
Now determined and furious, Bitzi marched past the smug goat man, kicked over the bucket of cleaning solution, grabbed Buster by the tips of his ears, and dragged him to his feet. The boy's hollow eyes stared into space unfeelingly, and he remained silent.  
  
Mr. Fillmore stepped closer to her. "I have total power over him," he boasted, his voice rising to a triumphant pitch. "His free will is mine to give or take as I please. He valued a ridiculous toy more than his very soul, and now he shall pay the price...for all eternity!"  
  
He looked back and forth, and seemed pleased with the expressions of defeat and abject horror on the faces of Bitzi, Arthur, and Francine.  
  
Suddenly the spell over Buster's mind broke, and his pallid face once again showed emotion. He dropped the cleaning sponge and watched his hands as he wiggled them about, relieved at having freedom of movement once again.  
  
Mr. Fillmore flashed Bitzi a friendly smile. "Or until he works off the $17.95," he concluded. "Whichever comes first."  
  
Zombie Buster took a few halting steps. He glanced at Bitzi, Arthur, and Francine, who were now staring at Fillmore with confusion and disbelief in their faces.  
  
----  
  
Buster remained a zombie for a week and a half. During that time he went to Mr. Fillmore's toy shop of his own volition, and helped to clean the stock room and the main floor. As he never tired, he also assisted in moving crates and toy boxes between the delivery trucks, the stock shelves, and the displays.  
  
When the time had passed, Mr. Fillmore lifted the zombie curse and restored Buster to his normal self. He suffered no ill effects, other than some slight pain in his teeth due to the dental work that had been done while he was still a zombie.  
  
Bitzi relished the ritual of tucking her son into bed that evening, happy that the strange zombie experience had ended.  
  
"Mom?" Buster called out as she was about to shut off the light.  
  
Bitzi turned. "Yes?"  
  
"I really want one of those new Stretch-a-Sketch toys," said Buster enthusiastically. "Maybe if I go back to Toys-4-U, Mr. Fillmore will turn me back into a zombie and make me work for two weeks, and then I can get one for free."  
  
Bitzi sighed. "We're never going back to that store, Buster. In fact, I'm going to write a newspaper article and expose that fiend."  
  
But she never had a chance to do so, as Toys-4-U went out of business the next day, and Mr. Fillmore was never again seen in Elwood City.  
  
THE END 


End file.
